Andrea Stryer: The Gingko Tree

Andrea Stryer reflects on an exchange she had with a teacher who challenged her work on a school project.

I remember the first time I saw a gingko tree. It was 1946 and I was in the fourth grade. My teacher, Ms. Daly, sat in front, holding her red-and-blue connected pencils, ready to rap the knuckles of any disobedient kid. One day, she told us to bring in a leaf to make an art print. Excited about a new project, I skipped home, picking up leaves, including a sycamore, a maple [and] an elm. Each seemed so ordinary.

When I told my father about the assignment and that I want something different, he took me by the hand and led me into the garden, full of the trees he had planted over the years. He walked me over to the ginkgo and said, “Here’s a tree from Asia that dinosaurs may have nibbled.”

“Wow,” I said, as he lowered a branch. Each ribbed leaf was like a slice of pie. Perfect. The following day, Ms. Daly strode down the aisles checking that each of us has brought a leaf.

She stopped at my desk and snapped, “Where’s yours?” I held up my ginkgo.

“Never seen such a leaf. You’ve made this up.” She flipped her pencil and marked a big red X next to my name. I was stunned. My chin quivered, as I held back tears. I thought she would be praising me for such an unusual leaf. Instead, I was told to sit, hands folded, during art.

When school ended, I ran all the way home and told my parents what happened. They were furious. The next morning, my mother brought a beautiful, fully-leaved ginkgo branch to school, put it in Ms. Daly’s box and then spoke with the principal. Ms. Daly reluctantly admitted her error. Lying in bed that night, I smiled at the vision of a lumbering brontosaurus leaning over a ginkgo and chewing on an ancestor of my leaf. I realized after that experience that I would never let anyone deny what I know to be true. With a Perspective, I’m Andrea Stryer.

Andrea Stryer is a writer, inspired by watching animals in their wild habitats.